Milestones
by Apapazukamori
Summary: After the Final Day, life goes on, and the small, everyday milestones prove just as important as the foreordained ones. [post series, slice of life][FxK, SxA, K&Y]
1. Wedding Day

**Milestones**

**Part One: Wedding Day**

Springtime in Tokyo made the rest of the year worth suffering through, Kamui thought as the stray sakura petals swirled around his feet. None of the other seasons had much to recommend them; the summer humidity crushed the life out of you, autumn had passed into winter before you even knew it was gone. And winter... especially _last_ winter...

Well, December to February was just too damn cold.

A sigh of wind through tree boughs sent a shower of pink down on his head; despite all the painful associations with the flowers, Kamui didn't have the heart to dislike them. They reminded him of Kotori, or of his mother and aunt, delicate and ephemeral. You didn't miss the sakura once they had all bloomed and their petals floated away. You remembered the admiration and wonder you felt as you waited to see them again.

A year ago, he wouldn't have thought that way. A hand drew through dusty brown, almost too-long hair and sent more petals tumbling to his shoulders. Some wound up stuck in the folds of the black suit jacket he had slung over one shoulder. Maybe he'd keep them there, and in another year or so when he dug out his suit the fabric would smell like sakura. Today had been a day worth remembering, all things considered.

He came to an intersection and turned left; his feet followed a familiar path through a mostly intact section of the Ward. Another few trips and he would have the route memorized, right down to the last crack in the pavement and chunk of concrete sticking up from the sidewalk. But for now, he still had to look down every so often to keep from falling on his face. They didn't have many trees or bushes along this street anymore; maybe they had last year, but he'd probably never know for sure. Unlike many areas of Tokyo, the high-rise apartments still stood, though somewhat worse for wear. Cutting through an empty parking lot brought him to the tallest on the block and he squinted up toward the top floor. He could still pinball up between buildings and get where he was going in a heartbeat, but using his powers so openly really wasn't much fun anymore.

His steps echoed through the concrete stairwell as he passed the third floor, then the fourth, eighth and twelfth, all the way up to the twentieth floor. Kamui loosened his tie a little more as he stopped to catch his breath; a stray wind played through his hair, sending a welcome chill along the back of his neck. Another pass of his hand through his hair made it almost presentable as he walked down the open hall to the apartment at the very end. He rang the bell and leaned against the railing to wait. He didn't really need to use the doorbell, but he always did it anyway. Some leftover politeness that found its way into the person he'd become.

A moment later, the clang of the metal door opening echoed along the concrete walls. Kamui caught the handle and pulled it further open, grinning slightly at the tug of resistance before letting the knob go and stepping around the door and into the apartment. Fuuma snorted and shook his head as he let the door fall closed. "Don't we look nice today."

Kamui grinned cheekily up at him, a full showing of teeth. "Thanks." He turned to fold his suit jacket up, and retrieved the three or four petals that fell from under the lapel; he tucked them back into the fabric and turned back just in time to see Fuuma reach for him. For less than a heartbeat, Kamui paused, tensing, then his grin eased into a softer, smaller but more natural smile as careful fingers plucked another pair of sakura petals out of his hair.

"Are there any of these left on the tree?" Fuuma asked, giving him a long, considering look that didn't exactly match his question.

The younger teen met his gaze and held it for a moment, tilting his chin up slightly. Kamui looked away first and stretched his arms high up over his head and stretched, then let his hands fall behind his head as he toed off his very shiny and grown-up looking dress shoes. "You have any of those coffees left?" He stepped up into the apartment proper heading toward the window as he always did, so he could admire the view. The Tokyo skyline looked very different now, but the upside to that was that the _sky_ could now be seen in many places where it had been blotted out by sky-scraping offices and department stores. Someone told him that Tokyo Tower was now the tallest building in the city; Fuuma's apartment faced in the opposite direction, and Kamui was glad for it.

Far in the distance some pebble-sized boats floated in the bay, cutting into the waves that sparkled with the late afternoon sun. Kamui leaned forward until his forehead touched the glass, closing his eyes. Behind him, he heard the fridge door open and close and then the soft, steady footsteps as Fuuma approached. Though he fully expected the cold can against the back of his neck, he still hissed and ducked when it came. "Fuu_ma_."

The other laughed and gave him a playful shove toward the couch, letting him snatch the coffee can away before he flopped unceremoniously down, taking up most of the sitting space. Fuuma dropped onto the floor beside the couch and Kamui couldn't help but watch. Somewhere along the line Fuuma had acquired a catlike way of moving; all long limbs and a straight, strong back. Even the clumsiest gestures seemed to flow as if he'd planned them. Kamui had never thought of his friend as graceful, but in reality, he'd never really thought of Fuuma moving beyond his childhood memories. A mistake he both regretted and took a secret pleasure in, as every visit brought some new insight.

"So," Fuuma began as he unscrewed the cap to his water bottle. "What's the occasion? I thought you and ties were mortal enemies."

Kamui snorted, then smiled sadly as he looked up at the shadows moving on the ceiling. "I came from Arashi's wedding reception."

"Kishuu got married?"

A thin shoulder shrugged. "She kind of had to; the baby doesn't give her much of a choice."

"True."

"I'm not sure Sorata would have approved of the guy." Kamui chuckled as he said it, thinking of the young man who was quieter, less impulsive and unlike the Kansai monk in just about every way. The man who smiled gently at his new bride, who agreed to raise a child not his own, knowing all the while Arashi had experienced true love in her life and he would probably always be second to that. Glancing at the back Fuuma's head, Kamui thought of the other's father. "I didn't think he was so bad."

Fuuma made a soft, thoughtful sound and Kamui wondered if their thoughts followed the same track. His fingers flexed, inches from the dark hair that rested against the back of his friend's neck, but they stayed where they were. "Arashi seemed okay though."

The other turned slightly and leaned his shoulder against the cushion. "She's made the most with what she had," he replied. "It's probably the best she could expect, given the situation."

And somewhere along the line, Fuuma had lost the ability to read Kamui's mind. Violet eyes wandered back up toward the ceiling. "Mm." He let the conversation stall, his thoughts meandering down a haphazard path. Eventually, Kamui propped himself up on his elbows and carefully opened his can of coffee. "I saw Yuzuriha there, and Kusanagi-san." A bemused smile crossed his lips. "They've gotten pretty close."

A shiver ran up his spine as Fuuma chuckled, the sound still rich as ever, but no longer out to make his hair stand on end. "I wondered how those two would end up." The older teen shifted, resting his arm on the couch.

"I think she was more excited than the bride was." Kamui took long drink of coffee and then lay back down, turning onto one side and folding one arm under his head. He gave Fuuma a half smile. "Strange couple, but I don't think they care." Another silence fell as another chuckle faded out. Kamui had no more gossip to relay from the reception; there wasn't anyone else there his friend would know, let alone care about. There wasn't anyone else _he_ knew. Fuuma's face blurred in front of him as he let his eyes unfocus and mind wander. Karen would have loved to see the youngest Seal all dressed up in her pink and gold formal kimono, maiden's sleeves swinging inelegantly with the force of their wearer's excitement. Aoki might have brought his family and they would've all finally gotten to meet the daughter he talked so much about.

So many "would haves" or "might haves" or "should haves". All things he tried not to dwell on, especially here, when he had already wasted so much time living in the past.

His eyes readjusted suddenly, then fell half closed as a hand threaded through his hair, combing away the sad thoughts as easily as they had taken out the sakura petals earlier. Kamui's lips pulled up with a hint of a smile, and he wondered just how miserable he had looked just a moment ago.

"Your hair's getting long," Fuuma mused, looking his head over with a fond expression.

He got a halfhearted grunt in reply. "Mph. Should probably get it cut."

"Might not be a bad idea." A slight tug as Fuuma curled a lock around his finger, and Kamui damn near purred like a pleased kitten. "Keep you from looking anymore girly than you already do."

Kamui snorted derisively, then grinned. "Bastard."

He received a smirk in return. "Always," Fuuma replied. And it was true. Or, at least, now it was true. The last year had taken them both apart, mixed their pasts and presents, and gave them glue with a parting "knock yourselves out." The result of making something out of the stray pieces had taken some getting used to. And, perhaps, still did. What hadn't changed still didn't come out exactly the same as it had been going in.

But here they were, together in the half-dark of a small apartment in a not-quite-ruined part of Tokyo.

"I'm still wondering why you stopped over here, instead of going home."

Kamui shifted and stretched, avoiding an answer as long as possible, until it became clear he couldn't wipe the shy smile off his face. He settled for turning his gaze toward the floor. "The atmosphere was kind of contagious." He coughed, glad the growing darkness hid the fact that his face had suddenly gotten hot. "Plus, I was the only single guy in the fucking place. Didn't want to be the fifteenth wheel."

Fuuma stayed quiet for a handful of heartbeats, then laughed softly. He said nothing, just leaned his head back to rest it against Kamui's side.

Kamui decided he liked it there.


	2. Birthday

**Milestones**

**Part Two: Birthday**

This was the first time in probably a year that Kamui had been in a hospital for reasons other than his own injuries. Still, nothing really ever dulled the anxiety at being in a place where blood ranked as the second most plentiful fluid. Where the hum of the air conditioning system, overtaxed by the late summer heat, could just be heard over moans and cries of pain.

Arashi's fingernails had left grooves in his palms, but at that point it no longer mattered; his hands had gone numb a half an hour ago. Her grip relaxed slightly as she caught her breath, chest heaving just above a swollen stomach. The doctor and nurse offered comforting words but only as an afterthought as they discussed her condition between themselves. The former priestess' head lolled back against the pillows, glazed grey eyes finding Kamui's after a moment. "Kamui-san..."

Somehow, he convinced his fingers to squeeze her hand. "I think it's almost over," he said softly, trying to smile. "You're doing great."

She blinked slowly as his reply registered, then she returned the smile. "Thank you... for being here..."

Kamui pulled his hand out of her grip just long enough to push sweat-soaked bangs off her forehead. "Shh, if I weren't in here, I'd be out in the waiting room with Yuzuriha." He wondered if she minded her husband's absence. A business trip right at the end of Obon that took him away from his very pregnant wife seemed awfully convenient. And if it was... maybe he was better off being away, entrusting her care to a small group of people tied to Arashi by fate and a bond that ran deeper than he knew.

A grateful smile wrenched into a grimace as another contraction struck; her grip returned to his one hand, her free one clenched the pillowcase beside her head. After the pain passed, Kamui took her hand back; his hands were almost as clammy as hers.

"Nagayama-san," the doctor called, voice muffled behind her mask. Kamui startled, hearing the name. "You're just about ready. When I count to three, I want you to push as hard as you can."

Biting her lip, Arashi nodded hurriedly, and glanced up at Kamui for reassurance. He bent down and pressed his lips to her forehead, feeling compelled to offer something more than just words. As awkward as he felt as he pulled back, the look in those grey eyes had calmed some. Gathering her resolve, Arashi adjusted her hold on Kamui's hands and took a few deep breaths.

"One... two... three!"

Kamui bit his own lip against a wince as he discovered his hands weren't as numb as he'd thought. Arashi gritted her teeth and pushed, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. After a moment, she let out a soft cry and fell back against the pillow, gasping. A half second later, the countdown began again. At first, Arashi tried to keep from making too much noise, but she had to give up; Kamui just held on, murmuring encouragements as he watched the pair of heads at the end of the bed, close together behind the drape. His ears strained for some sign of the light at the end of the tunnel.

Though he had expected to hear it, the baby's first cry stole his breath away like a punch to the stomach. He looked quickly down at Arashi and saw the mix of awe and fear fight its way up through the exhaustion that left her unable to move. The doctor held up a tiny, shivering... thing, and her eyes shone. "It's a girl!"

"A girl..." Arashi gasped, her eyes wide.

Kamui's face broke into a grin as the news finally registered. "Congratulations, Arashi."

The former priestess' hands came down to her heart slowly, and the shell-shocked expression began to melt into a desperation, a hunger to see the child. She held her arms out when the doctor brought forward the loosely wrapped bundle. Kamui stepped back a little to give Arashi some room, but he peered down into the little girl's face and in a giddy, lightheaded moment, thought she looked more like a raisin. An overwhelmed laugh escaped before he could stop it, but no one appeared to hear him.

Arashi stared wonderingly at the tiny baby, reaching up to pull back the blanket and touch the still-bloodied cheek. "She's beautiful, Sorata-san," she breathed.

And, clutching the bundle to her chest, she burst into tears.

"Nagayama-san!" The doctor rushed over to take the baby, but Arashi pulled away. "No, please..." she sobbed. "Don't take her away."

Kamui covered his mouth with one hand and turned away, all elation snuffed out. Perhaps the doctors mistook the tears for a release of energy; a new mother momentarily overwhelmed. Kamui wouldn't be the one to correct their thinking.

Eventually, the doctor and nurse coaxed Arashi into letting the baby go in order to get cleaned up. Blinking tears out of his eyes, Kamui sat beside her on the bed, and part of his heart broke to watch her stare at her empty arms in teary confusion . Not knowing what else to do, he enfolded her into his and murmured comforting incoherent things.

Maybe an hour passed before the others joined them. Yuzuriha and Kusanagi offered to keep her company while Kamui returned to the dorms to get some sleep. Arashi clung to him, still grieving despite being half asleep, but Yuzuriha managed to change places with him without much protest.

The walk across CLAMP campus took much longer than usual; the summer haze was thick enough to dim the full moon's light, but Kamui shivered the whole way back. His heart ached and he felt somehow guilty for not being happier. None of them had expected to revisit their grief tonight.

Keiichi looked up from his textbooks as Kamui stumbled into the room they'd shared since January, grinning expectantly. "Well?"

The smaller teen waved his hand distractedly. "Girl." He noticed a slight slur to his words and wanted nothing more than to fall into bed. "Looked like a prune."

His roommate's laugh rang out. "You're not romantic at all, Shirou."

Kamui flopped onto his bed, a heap of sweaty clothes, shaking hands and desperate attempts to hide how unsettled Arashi's outburst had made him. "I don't ever want to be in love..." he murmured.

He heard the textbook close. "Shirou?"

A scarred and nail-marked hand drifted up and waved dismissively. "Nev'rmind." The hand dropped back down and wrapped itself into the bedclothes with the other one. "Just tired."

"If you say so" Keiichi replied, taking the hint, and the sounds coming from his side of the room were those that accompanied packing up the books for the night.

"Mph."

Despite his exhaustion, Kamui lay awake long after the lights had gone out, shivering and his heart aching. Finally, he fumbled in his pocket for his cell phone and hit the first number on his speed dial. His fingers clenched on the phone as it rang once, twice... a third time...

An unspeakable relief flooded through him when the line picked up after the fifth ring. "...Hello?"

"Hey," Kamui murmured. "It's me."

He imagined Fuuma rubbing his face in exasperation and smiled a little when the tone proved him right. "It's.. two in the morning, Kamui..."

Biting his lip, Kamui felt that flutter of doubt fill his stomach. Really, it was a bit late to be waking his friend up. "I know, I'm sorry. I just..

"I just wanted to hear your voice."

The pause on the other end of the line started to stretch into "uncomfortable" territory. "You remember that chicken thing I made a while ago? I made some changes to it tonight..."

Kamui curled up on his bed and listened to Fuuma talk, eventually falling asleep with a slight smile on his face.


	3. Anniversary

**Milestones**

**[Content Note: Lime **

**Part Three: Anniversary**

_Snip, snip._

A clump of dusty brown hair fell to the floor, where it joined other finger-length tufts in forming a semi-circle around the chair in Fuuma's kitchen. Outside, the frigid rain lashed at the window and the wind howled on its behalf when the storm failed to invade the small apartment. A kettle quietly simmered on the range while a teapot and pair of cups waited on the counter. All in all, the scene would have been cozy, domestic and saccharine, if not for the teenager sulking at the very center of it. Fuuma nudged Kamui's head forward, baring the back of his neck while he checked the evenness of the hairline.

"I was going to go to a barber."

"You've been saying that since April."

Kamui made a face. "Maybe I _like_ having long hair." He glanced at his fingers as they fidgeted in his lap, all too aware of the metallic scraping of the scissors as they opened and closed.

_Snip, snip._

"No, you don't," Fuuma replied around the comb in his teeth. "You're just lazy."

"Hey!"

Fuuma firmly pressed his head back down. "I told you not to move so much." He took the comb and smoothed some of the flyaway strands. "And anyway, I'm not dating anyone with a ponytail."

As the blush rose in his cheeks, Kamui was very glad what remained of his longish hair covered his face. "Have you ever done this before?"

"Nope," his friend said lightly. "But I watched Kotori enough times; it's not exactly rocket science."

Kamui stayed quiet for a time, just listening to every _snip_, feeling the hair tickle as it fell toward the floor or the towel around his shoulders. The tension that played up and down his back served to remind him just how much he had come to trust his friend again. "It's been a year already," he finally said, his tone thoughtful. It didn't seem so long. Though compared to other milestones in their lives, perhaps it wasn't.

"Mm." Fuuma's reply sounded backhanded, an automatic rejoinder to something said. Kamui knew better than to think he lacked the other's attention; neither of them spoke much about what had happened. On one hand, there was very little need; they understood each other well enough. On the other... well, maybe old wounds had to be allowed to heal before you could reopen them.

_Snip, snip._

"We doing something for Christmas Eve?"

"Eh, hadn't planned anything." Fuuma reached around to the front of Kamui's head and gently lifted his chin. When he pulled back, fingers brushed Kamui's cheek. "It's all kind of corny, isn't it?"

"Maybe..." Now Kamui took a turn being distracted. His cheek tingled where the other's fingers had been. "Yuzuriha keeps threatening to buy us a cake."

Laughing, Fuuma stepped over to his left side and began to try and tame the unruly locks. "Maybe the dog will eat it. You still coming here for New Years?"

Kamui smiled and bit his lip impishly. "Yeah. Segawa's going to his grandparents' up in Sendai." They'd had this conversation at least twice in the last week, but somehow he didn't mind having it again. "There's no reason to stay in the dorm."

"Good. Hold still." Fuuma combed the hair over Kamui's ear and brought the scissors up, cutting with extreme care. When the blades moved away, Kamui let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. His other tucked the now-much-shorter lock of hair behind his ear and his fingers lingered long enough for Kamui to notice. He risked moving enough to glance up, and saw nothing more than intense concentration on Fuuma's face.

"How much more?"

Amber-colored eyes flicked toward his briefly, then returned to studying his head. "Just a little bit on this side, and then the other." Fuuma grinned as if to reassure him. "Not long, promise."

Kamui nodded and returned to fidgeting. He turned his hands over in his lap, comparing, scrutinizing, while Fuuma worked. The scar in his left hand was longer and more uneven than the one in his right; he wondered if Fuuma ever noticed. He traced the whitish-pink line with his index finger, humming tunelessly under his breath.

When the blunt side of the scissor blade drew lightly along the side of his neck, Kamui shuddered hard, mouth suddenly dry. Then a breath, warm on his ear, too close to be coincidence. "Sorry about that."

The younger teen swallowed and nodded absently, torn between stopping the game Fuuma had decided to play and letting it continue, having some idea of where it might go. A familiar question where the other was concerned, but now he seemed to lean toward a profoundly different answer. "There'd better be hair left on my head when you're done, Monou." He tried and failed to conceal the unsteadiness in his voice.

"I don't think you'll have to worry about that."

_Snip, snip._

Kamui's bottom lip felt a little raw by the time the haircut ended. Fuuma gathered the towel up and brushed some stray clippings off the back of Kamui's neck, dragging his thumb slowly down the ridge of his spine. The smaller teen made his decision, then, and stood up slowly. He ran both hands through his hair, gauging the length as best he could without a mirror nearby. "Feels good," he said after a pause, looking at Fuuma out of the corner of his eye.

The other was watching him with a very familiar expression. "Glad you like it."

Lowering his arms, Kamui tried to make himself meet Fuuma's eyes. "I wondered if you knew what you were doing." He turned halfway, hip brushing up against the side of the chair. Less than arm's reach from his friend, Kamui lifted his chin slightly, his heart pounding in his chest all the while. Fuuma's hand came up and slid into the newly-shortened hair, cupping the back of his head as their lips met in a hungry kiss.

Kamui's hands flitted hesitantly from the other's arms to his chest before impatience trumped his reservations and both arms wrapped tightly around Fuuma's neck. The kiss took on a softer edge before Fuuma broke it, lips turned up in a half grin. "Took you long enough."

Kamui laughed weakly and pressed his forehead against Fuuma's as his arms tightened. "I've wanted to for months."

Fuuma leaned down to trail kisses along the column of Kamui's throat, which the latter bared easily, tilting his head back. "I know," Fuuma breathed against the skin, and Kamui shivered. "I've watched your hands." He pressed a light kiss against his pulse. With a low moan, Kamui lifted his head and pressed their mouths back together, cupping both sides of his other's face.

Breathless when they pulled apart, neither moved back very far. Slim fingers trailed along Fuuma's cheek and forehead, moving down to trace the curve of his lips. "Can I stay tonight?"

Amber-colored eyes darkened with the implications of the whispered question, but then narrowed. "Don't you have class tomorrow?"

Kamui kissed the corner of his mouth. "I can skip." School was the furthest thing from his mind, though that was hardly news. He only planned on finishing high school because his mother would have wanted him to. "I've been a good boy all term."

"Only because you don't want Imonoyama knowing what a delinquent you are." Fuuma's hands played at the hem of his t-shirt, and Kamui's breath caught in anticipation.

"Yeah... well..." he managed, rapidly losing interest in conversation. "Can't blame me for that."

The couch springs protested as their combined weights pressed down upon the cushions. Fuuma seemed determined to learn every inch of Kamui's upper body, mouth and hands moving over every muscle, every dimple, paying special attention to every scar he found. As a result, Kamui learned that his Gemini's tongue tracing over his palm had the effect not unlike striking a match in a room full of oxygen; the surge of power and pleasure left him stunned and shaking.

Sometime in between harried grinding of denim-covered hips, the panting and swallowed sounds of completion, and the dozing with his legs tangled around Fuuma's, Kamui reflected on the nature of selfish Wishes, and how glad he was that what they'd each Wished for had come to pass.


	4. Housewarming

**Milestones**

**Part Four: Housewarming**

Blocky, blurry red numbers stared across the room from the top of the dresser; its very presence seemed to chide the pair curled up in the bed for being there and yet not being asleep. Outside, the moon shone bright, crisp and clear as the wispy autumn clouds floated on by. Kamui burrowed further under the covers, both relieved and disappointed at the time. Still early enough to catch the train back to the dorms, but that would mean acting on his disquiet.

"Mm?" A sleepy sound rumbled against his bare back, warm breath tickled the stray hair on his cheek.

Kamui turned over, automatically starting to slide one arm over Fuuma's hip; he deliberately stopped and settled his arm along his own side. "I should get going," he replied softly. "I can still get the train." They both knew he was perfectly capable of making it across town faster than the trains, but Kamui wouldn't be the one to bring it up.

His friend's eyes opened slowly, far more alert than the initial question had implied. Fuuma lifted his head and craned his neck to see the clock, then settled back down on the pillow with a gracefully arched eyebrow. "Oh?"

A lead lump settled in Kamui's stomach as he chewed on the inside of his lip. "I have school tomorrow."

Fuuma snorted. "That hasn't stopped you before."

A pathetic, pleading sort of smile. "I used up all my skip days."

The mattress shifted as Fuuma propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at him. "Go in in the morning, then. We'll wake up early."

Kamui tried not to look away and failed; his eyes settled on the faint water stain on the wall just below the ceiling. In the dark, he couldn't actually see it, but he remembered where it was. "I think I left some notes I need for the test tomorrow. Segawa was going to help me study."

"Any other conveniently scheduled study dates I should know about?" Fuuma's tone made Kamui wince. Looking back at him, he saw narrowed eyes and a scrutinizing expression. Pushing the covers off, Kamui sat up and peered at the floor to find his clothes. "Not that I know of."

"That you'll tell me about, you mean."

Bristling, Kamui completely moved off the bed. "Cut it out, Fuuma." A moment's hunting and he'd collected all this things. He leaned against the far wall to slide his pants back on.

"Think I touched a nerve."

He hadn't heard Fuuma use that _infuriatingly_ smug tone in months, and the sound of it twisted Kamui's insides. "Can't you ever _not_ push?!" he demanded, temper flaring. "Since when do I have to tell you everything?"

"Since when have you needed to hide stuff from me?" Fuuma sat up in the bed, propping an arm up on his knee. He watched the younger teen calmly, his regard cool.

Kamui's hands bunched into fists, but after a handful of deep breaths, he was able to uncurl them and yank on his shirt. "I'm not hiding anything! What are you, my mother?" Shirt and pants securely fastened, Kamui stuffed his socks into his pocket and stomped out toward the door. His feet protested being stuffed into his shoes, but he ignored them. He heard the bedroom door close and gritted his teeth as he looked up, mildly surprised to see Fuuma leaning against the wall with his arms folded. Again, just watching, evaluating with that freezing mask.

"Can I expect a call the next time you can pencil me in? Surely Segawa can spare you sometime in the future." The smile turned nasty. "Maybe New Years?"

If it wouldn't have been completely going against everything he'd wanted at the end of That Year, Kamui would have strangled Fuuma right then and there. Or blown him out one of those wide glass windows to send him plummeting twenty floors down. Instead, pulled his coat off the rack hard enough to send the hook clattering to the floor. "Fuck you, Monou." Wrenching the front door open, Kamui stepped out into the chilly night air. He made sure to slam the door as hard as possible. Would serve the other right if he got some noise complaints.

Stepping up onto the balcony rail, Kamui jumped off, falling fast toward the ground. The floors blurred past, the wind whipped at his hair and stung his eyes until he checked his fall, slowing the descent three or four floors from the sidewalk. As he touched down, he turned up the collar of his coat and stalked off between the buildings. He could have gone back to the dorms via rooftop, jumping from building to building until he crossed into the pentacle-shaped campus. But that left little time to burn off his anger before facing his roommate.

And, honestly, given Fuuma's assumptions -- genuine or not -- he really didn't want to see Keiichi. If he walked to the dorms, the blond would be asleep by the time he arrived. Kamui turned right at the intersection and watched his breath make little clouds in the air as he walked. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets; in his pique, he'd left his gloves at Fuuma's and the hell if he was going to go back and get them.

"_Can you pencil me in?_" he mimicked, voice dripping with spite. "Asshole..." But the further he walked from the apartment, the colder his hands became and he spent more time chewing on his lip, scuffing his foot against stray stones in the sidewalk.

He'd wanted this, hadn't he?

"Be careful what you wish for..." he muttered, then laughed painfully as his chest constricted. Everything came back to wishes. His had been granted, that night, bringing with it all the complications and quirks and joys of keeping Fuuma in his life. Sometimes it was hard to remember that nothing in life was ideal.

As much as he tried to be optimistic and resist Fuuma's unique sort of realism, he had too much happen in his life to not be paranoid when things seemed to go too well for too long. The past months had flown by in a haze of starlit intimacies and good morning kisses at dawn. Stop, slow down, take a breath before the wave comes and crashes over your head, drowning you in the undertow. Happy as he was, nothing so good could last forever. Leaves died and fell, coated the ground and were walked on. Winter winds drove away the sun's warmth, until it had enough of the beating and cut back its hours.

The second full year had begun to wind down, and the idea of surviving yet another twelve months opened the door to claustrophobia. The second shoe always dropped. Somehow, Kamui couldn't help but hold his breath and wait for Fate to decide she had given too much and someone owed the difference. Things always turned out that way.

As he'd hoped, Keiichi's light snoring filled the dorm room by the time he crept in. Kamui tossed his coat at the foot of the bed, kicked his shoes under it, and crawled between cold sheets. Worn out by more than just the exercise, he fell asleep almost immediately.

A pillow whacking against his head startled him awake, so much so that he grabbed it and pulled back and wound up with half a pillowcase and a head full of feathers.

"Oi! That was mine!"

Blinking down out of his eyes, Kamui just stared at Keiichi stupidly, briefly wondering what his roommate was doing so far across town. Then he remembered, and his mood instantly soured. "Jackass," he muttered, tossing the empty case at him.

Keiichi made a show of scooping up the feathers from the floor and dumping them on Kamui's head. "I didn't do whatever ticked you off so bad, Shirou," he said with a half smile. "So don't take it out on me, ok?"

Kamui's mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out. A blush spread over his cheeks and he looked down, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry."

A hand ruffled his sleep-mussed hair. "S'ok. I didn't think you'd be home last night. What time'd you get in?"

Kamui tried to smooth down his hair. "About midnight, I think." He looked around for the clock. Six-fifteen. Though he doubted he'd be able to concentrate, he gave up spending the night with Fuuma in order to come back to campus; he might as well go to class. Somehow the thought buoyed him. One less lie he'd told.

"Really? I never heard you." Keiichi stripped off his t-shirt and hunted in his closet, eventually pulling out a towel. He glanced over at Kamui and tilted his head to one side. "Want to vent?"

The shorter teen blinked, startled as he tended to be by his roommate's insights. "Well, I..." Kamui shook his head. "Nah. I'll be all right."

Keiichi tossed the towel over one shoulder and grabbed his shower supplies. As he walked past, he ruffled Kamui's hair again. "Remember, Shirou," he said with a grin and wagging his finger. "A blocked toilet eventually overflows. And it isn't pretty when it does."

"... you're insane, Segawa."

The blond left for his shower, laughing his head off all the way down the hall. Kamui snorted, shaking his head.

Once showered and dressed, the two made their way to class. As predicted, Kamui paid absolutely no attention for the first half of the day; he should have stayed in bed. Once in a while, Keiichi shot little paper balls at his head to try and get him to pay attention, but even Mr. Persistence had to give up. By the time lunch came around, he had firmly resolved to go back to the dorms and sleep for the rest of the day. Maybe he'd go visit Kotori's tree; his attentions had lapsed since getting more involved with her brother. With a pang, he changed that "maybe" to a definite.

Even his childhood friend's final resting place was not immune to the movement of the seasons. He started picking up the leaves that had fallen around the base of the tree. Eventually, he had to remove his uniform jacket and roll up his sleeves, brushing slightly damp bangs off his forehead. He took a short break to hunt for a rake. Three buildings over, he found one in a landscaper's shed. Hefting it on his shoulder, he made his way back to the tree. He stopped short when he saw his small but carefully stacked leaf pile strewn around the ground...

By a large but still highly energetic spirit dog.

Kamui smacked his forehead with his hand. "I think I liked the first version of you better."

"Sorry, Kamui-san!!" He turned and saw Yuzuriha running toward him, waving her hands frantically. "No, no Inuki!!" The object of their irritation barked happily and bounded over to his mistress, who shook her finger furiously. "Kamui-san worked very hard on these leaves. You go apologize!"

Chastened, Inuki slunk over to Kamui's side and sat down. When Kamui failed to immediately respond, the dog nudged his leg with his nose and whimpered. Sighing, Kamui bent down and rubbed his head. "Accepted." He looked up just in time to drop the rake and catch the ball of teenaged girl that came hurling toward him. She beamed at him and hugged him very tightly. "It's been so long, Kamui-san! We've missed you!" She stepped back and used her hand to compare their heights. "I think you've gotten taller since Arashi-san's wedding."

Rubbing the back of his neck, Kamui had to smile. "How are you?" he asked, picking up the rake again.

"Oh, let me help!"

Kamui shook his head. "No, it's okay." He glanced up into the tree's branches. "I'd rather do it myself. I kind of owe her."

"Okay" she chirped, finding a clear place near the base of the tree to sit. "I'll keep you company, then."

"Sure."

Yuzurhia carefully tucked her skirt around her legs as she settled herself. "And we've been really good," she said, smiling up at him. "I love high school!" She stuck her hand out, a fist with two fingers in a "v". "You're graduating in March, right?"

He chuckled and nodded, scraping the leaves into a pile that he saw Inuki eying with interest. "Yeah. Miraculously enough."

"Well, you managed one miracle," she replied gently. "This one is easier."

Rendered speechless for the second time that day, Kamui just stared at her with a lump in his throat. He swallowed painfully and nodded. "This miracle's called Imonoyama Nokoru." The leaves seemed much more interesting at that moment. "He wouldn't let me fail even if I tried."

She looked at him for a minute, then just made some "tsk" sounds and shrugged. "Well, then someone made a miracle for you. No one expects you to do _everything_." She smiled, then brightened. "Oh! I have the best news!"

The transition from calm to squealing had driven him crazy the first few months after he met her, but now Kamui just smiled bemusedly and found a spot closer to her to rake. "What is it?"

"Kusanagi-san--" she stopped, covered her mouth, then blushed. "I.. I mean _Kusanagi_..." she giggled and waved her hands a little. "Um um, Kusanagi and I found a place to live..." her voice dropped to a whisper. "Together!!"

Kamui blinked, then his eyebrows crawled up his forehead. "That's great, but... what does your grandmother think about that?"

Yuzuriha managed to stem the flow of giggling, and folded her hands primly in her lap. "She didn't like the idea at first, but she met Kusanagi and he promised to take care of me as long as I'd have him." She beamed. "Grandmother warmed up to him after a few more meetings. She likes him almost as much as I do now."

The older teen set the rake to the side of the tree and sat down beside the radiantly smiling girl. "I'm glad for you," he said with a smile. But he couldn't help feeling slightly jealous. "Are you ready for that, though?" He asked as he pulled his knees up to his chest. He didn't dislike Kusanagi at all. If anything, he thought the man's calm, grounded personality complimented Yuzuriha's extremely well. But living together... meant certain things. "You're still in high school."

She batted at him. "I'm already sixteen! I know what I'm getting into."

"You're too young to rent it together though."

She shrugged. "Oh, that's all right. Kusanagi's name will be on the lease, no one will bother us."

Inuki had finally decided the humans were not going to properly use the leaf pile that Kamui had made and pounced on it, rolling and barking with glee. Yuzuriha covered her face. "Oh, I'm sorry Kamui-san," she said tearfully. "He's gotten so big but he still acts like a puppy sometimes..."

"What if he throws you out?"

Big brown eyes blinked at him. "What?"

Kamui shifted uncomfortably and looked out in front of him. The lunch period was ending soon, and the students had started to drift back toward the school building. "What if Kusanagi-san decides he doesn't want you there any more? You won't have any standing." He was glad not to be looking in her direction; the silence that followed his question felt like a hurt one.

"He won't."

Kamui risked a glance at her and found none of the recrimination he expected. She simply smiled at him, hands at her heart. "He won't. I know he won't. Even if we break up, he wouldn't hurt me like that."

The force of her belief left him feeling hollowed out, smaller and sad. "How come you're so sure?"

She reached over and took one of his hands in hers. "Sometimes, you just have to trust someone." She lifted one of her hands and pressed it against his cheek, startling him a little. "It's not easy, and sometimes I feel bad because he's so nice to me and I wonder if he loves me as much as I love him, but..." She clasped both his hands again. "I made the choice to trust him."

Violet eyes widened and for a minute, all he wanted was to have his hands back. He tried, but she held on. "Kamui-san," she said softly. "You don't have to make all the miracles." With that, she let his hands go and kissed him quickly on the cheek. "Don't forget that, okay?" Another smile, and she stood, brushing the leaves off her black skirt. The bell rang just as she waved to Inuki. "I'll send you an invitation to the housewarming party!" She called as she ran back into the school.

Kamui sat for a long time in front of Kotori's tree, playing with the leaves.

In the end, he left them ringing the base of the tree; Kotori would have liked the swirl of autumn colors. He left around the end of the school day, moving through the throng of elementary schoolers who all called to him, wondering if he'd been sent home early. He just shook his head and continued back to the dorms, and then out into the city, only half aware of the world around him. By now, he knew the way by heart, having had plenty of opportunities to memorize the route. His feet carried him past the potholes where the rock slabs used to be, up the ridiculous number of stairs and down the hall to the apartment at the end.

He knocked, even though he didn't need to, and waited for the door to open. When a minute or two passed, he chewed on his lip, shifting his bag to his shoulder. Then he heard the lock turn and the clang of the door opening. He looked up to see Fuuma watching him warily, as if bracing for another outburst. As he passed into the apartment, Kamui searched his friend's face for some sign of the coldness he'd seen the night before.

Slipping his shoes off, he tried not to fidget. The window drew his attention immediately, as it always did, but he stayed by the door, where Fuuma still stood. With a deep breath, he turned around and met his still-cautious expression. Kamui backed up a step, effectively putting himself a little taller than the other, and then held up the bag. Fuuma took it and raised an eyebrow. "I was wondering..." Kamui hesitated, jaw tightening. "If you had room in your closet for one of my spares?" The other poked around inside the bag and pulled out a black sleeve. "So I don't have to go back to the dorm before heading to school."

Fuuma turned the sleeve over in his hand, then tucked it back in the bag. "They'll kick you out if you show up in something that wrinkled." He set the bag down and slid his arms around Kamu's waist, tilting his head back to nuzzle under his chin.

Kamui's arms wound around his shoulders as the younger teen purred softly. "Then I'm glad you have an iron."


	5. Graduation

**Milestones**

**Part Five - Graduation**

Sakura blossoms fluttered on the breeze, as they did year after year. Another spring, another burst of pink against the concrete background. The endless reassurance that, yes, good things always returned. Kamui watched a single petal drift down and land on the shoulder of the girl in front of him, where it nearly blended in with her soft pink haori. After a moment, the girl noticed and brushed it off, and Kamui got a look at her face. He didn't know her; everyone in her row belonged to D Class, and he'd never really had a reason to spend time around them. His class, the gifted and talented Z Class (and he still wasn't sure what he was doing there; he suspected the Chairman hoped Segawa would keep him from being too depressed), had been seated on the very top riser, set above their yearmates literally in addition to the usual figurative. The position lent Kamui a nice view of the pink-and-black checkerboard they had been arranged in, alternating girl-boy-girl. Pink haori and indigo hakama for the girls and black suits for the boys; like a university graduation instead of just high school. Trust CLAMP Campus to do things differently.

At least they hadn't been seated to look like a puffer fish to anyone looking at the ceremony from the air.

At the very front of the stage, Keiichi delivered Z Class' farewell, full of gratitude toward the faculty and staff, just like farewells A through D. Kamui didn't pay attention, but he knew Keiichi wouldn't mind. His thoughts were focused on more important things: how he was only an hour away from freedom, for example. Once he had his diploma in hand, there was no one left he needed to answer to. No one making choices for him. A terrifying prospect he was sincerely looking forward to. He looked into the audience and saw the Chairman sitting in the front row with his two assistants. The blond caught his eye and nodded, smiling. Kamui grinned back.

Keiichi droned on for another five minutes. Had this not been CLAMP Campus, with the shiny platinum reputation, Kamui would have been tempted to do something to trip him up. Instead, he went back to scanning the audience for familiar faces. Lots of families clustered together, their flashbulbs popping incessantly as they documented the culmination of time and money. Children sat on their parents' laps, waving to their older brothers or sisters who couldn't see them well enough to wave back. Kamui's abilities and seat on the top tier allowed him to find Arashi and Yuzuriha, sitting together, far in the rear of the amphitheater. Yuzuriha caught his glance and waved frantically; Inuki started barking when his mistress became excited, making noise only three people could hear. He didn't wave, but he smiled, a bit of bittersweet feeling rising in his chest. He told Yuzuriha they didn't have to attend, but she loudly proclaimed him to be "silly" and that _of course_ they'd be there to celebrate with him. Family members supported each other, after all.

He had to admit that being able to recognize someone in the audience felt pretty nice. Given the school's role in the Final Day, he and Fuuma had decided against the elder attending. Though the Chairman would probably have allowed it, the ceremony didn't need to risk some security guard missing the memo and causing a scene.

Applause erupted from the audience as Keiichi stepped to one side of the podium and bowed low. The blond turned with a smile and moved back up the rows to his seat. He grinned at Kamui as he sat down. "Did you like the speech?"

Kamui grinned back. "Didn't hear a word."

The other stifled his laugh in his sleeve as the Chairman stepped up to the microphone and said a few more congratulatory words. Kamui's heart kicked up a few beats when he announced the handing out of the diplomas. Almost there...

The procession of classes A through D seemed like the longest twenty minutes of Kamui's life. When Z Class rose to form its line, Kamui had to remember that toppling his classmates like a row of dominoes was a definite no-no in a formal situation. He felt Keiichi's hand settle on his shoulder, as if the blond could sense his thoughts. He looked back and shrugged. Keiichi ruffled his hair then hopped a half step back when Kamui threatened to deck him.

"Shirou Kamui."

Kamui whipped around at Nokoru's voice, half thinking to apologize for goofing off at graduation, but saw the Chairman holding his diploma out for him to take. He took the steps down the riser two at a time and straightened at the foot, walking forward with his head high...

... and nearly tripped when an all-too-familiar presence crept into the back of his mind.

_"I just wanted to hear your voice."_

As startled as he was to know _he_ was somewhere in the crowd, Kamui almost didn't feel the little scroll touch his palm. He glanced up at Nokoru, who smiled. "Really, Kamui-san," he chided gently, blue eyes twinkling. "Why should anyone miss today's festivities?"

A slow smile grew on Kamui's face. "Thank you, Nokoru-san," he replied softly, and let the sentiment speak for itself.

"Remember, if you ever need anything..."

_"You don't have to make all the miracles."_

Kamui nodded. "I will. Promise." Holding the diploma tightly in one hand, Kamui bowed to the Chairman, as his classmates had, and then walked past him, back up to his seat. _Free free free free free_...

The remainder of the ceremony passed in a blur; Kamui paid just enough attention to whistle through his fingers as Keiichi accepted his diploma. He also noticed that Nokoru shared more than just formal words with the teenager, and then Keiichi's grandfather came up close to the stage and snapped several pictures, much to the blond's embarrassment. The last student received her diploma and Nokoru turned to the audience. "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Class of Two Thousand and One!"

With that, Kamui jumped off the back of the riser, not giving a damn who saw, and ran up toward the back of the amphitheater. Fuuma grinned as he approached, and looked about to say something, but Kamui didn't give him the chance. He threw his arms around his friends shoulders -- now not so much of a reach -- and kissed him soundly. Fuuma made a short, almost-protest, then relented and settled his hands on Kamui's waist.

Pulling back finally, Kamui held up his fist with the now slightly wrinkled diploma. "Did it." Fuuma still looked mildly bemused at the sudden, very public display of affection. "So you did."

"Yeah." Grin. "Now let's get the hell out of here."

They made their way back to the dorm, using the massive crowd to cover their escape. "What about Kishuu and Nekoi?"

"I told them I'd meet them later. Arashi said we could meet at her place." Truth be told, Kamui was both surprised and pleased at Fuuma's inclusion in the invitation. While he didn't deliberately try to hide his relationship with the ex-Antichrist, somehow he still felt as if he kept a dirty little secret. "You can meet Mariko."

"Ah."

Their footsteps echoed in the empty dormitory halls and the whole place seemed rather lonely without its students. Despite not wanting to think of it as such, Kamui had come to think of the building and his room in it as being "home". As he let them into the room, he glanced at his now-empty walls and desk. A box of knick-knacks and toiletries sat on the foot of his bed, the last of his belongings. They had moved his clothes the night before, Fuuma gently teasing him about his lack of any "cool" clothes. Keiichi had encouraged the darker-haired teen, much to Kamui's ire.

Kamui turned the deadbolt and stood by the box, musing until he felt a tug on his belt loop. He let Fuuma pull him over and onto his lap; the desk chair creaked softly with them both on it, but didn't protest further. "You could stay here, you know." Fuuma spoke into the skin beneath his jaw, just over the pulse point. "I wouldn't mind."

Shivering, Kamui ran his hands through Fuuma's hair encouragingly, twisting the locks slightly around his fingers. "Liar," he replied. "You'd sneak in here some night and kidnap me in my sleep."

"... now _that_ would have been fun." Fuuma sucked hard on his pulse, and one of Kamui's hands quickly found the back of the chair, trying to keep from making a sound. The walls were only so thick. "Trying to get you out the window before Segawa woke up."

"You would've been spitting up feathers by the time he was done with you." Kamui slid his fingers behind the shell of Fuuma's ear and earned a deep, low purring sound and a kiss on the corner of his jaw. He sat back just a little as Fuuma hooked his fingers around the half-Windsor knot and loosened the tie; the black silk whispered as it pulled away from his collar button. Fuuma worked it open and pressed a kiss to Kamui's collarbone, then gently scraped his teeth over the thin skin. Kamui tightened his thighs around Fuuma's waist, burying a soft, shaky sigh in one shoulder.

Both of them jumped slightly when the door unlocked and Segawa stopped short in the doorway. He rolled his eyes and made a face at them. "Wait until you get home, man, jeez."

Kamui glared, blushing. "Why aren't you at the party?" He didn't leave Fuuma's lap out of principle, but he did shift positions until he was sitting sideways. Fuuma gave him a slightly amused look.

"I wanted to congratulate you on outing yourself in front of the entire grade." The blond's grin bordered on manic. "Brilliant job, Shirou."

Kamui groaned and buried his face in Fuuma's shoulder as the older teen laughed right out loud.

"Hate you both, just so you know."

If anything Fuuma laughed harder, and Kamui didn't know how Keiichi reacted, not being able to see him. After a moment, he guessed it safe to look up, and saw his soon-to-be-ex-room mate smiling a little sadly. "Well, actually, I figured you'd try to slip away and I wanted to say goodbye."

Violet eyes blinked slowly, then Kamui snorted and waved him off. "I'll still visit, you know. It's not like I'm going to China or anything." He paused. "Well, I do plan to go to China, but I'll come back."

Keiichi flopped down on what was Kamui's bed for a handful more minutes. "What're you going to do now?"

Without hesitating, Kamui rested his head on Fuuma's shoulder and grinned. "Sleep. Oh, and bum around the house in my underwear." He could feel Fuuma's laugh beneath his side and sensed the arm moving to bat away the pillow Keiichi threw. Once the snickering died down, he grew serious. "I really don't know. I did what I was put here to do--" he tilted his head up to catch Fuuma's eye. "We both did. My life is _mine_ now. I'm going to do whatever I want to do for the rest of it."

Keiichi looked at him, then at Fuuma, and then nodded. "Good."

Reluctantly, Kamui slid off Fuuma's lap and moved back over to his box. He left his tie loose and shirt unbuttoned, also on principle. "We're going to Arashi's later," he said, picking at the box flap. "Call me if you need directions."

The blond nodded and smiled. "Okay." He glanced over at Fuuma. "You'd better take care of him," he said with a wag of his finger. "You know how he is."

Kamui snorted. "I can take care of myself."

"No," he heard two voices in unison. "You can't."

As they walked back to Fuuma's -- and now his -- apartment, Kamui refused to let Fuuma carry the box, despite multiple offers with varying degrees of chaff. He'd let Fuuma take care of him tomorrow.


	6. Sick Day

**Milestones**

**Part Six: Sick Day**

There was a buzzing in Kamui's ears as his eyes creaked open and he lifted his head from Fuuma's chest. Confused, he glanced around the bedroom; the clock's numbers were too blurry to read, and the buzzing sounded too loud to be coming from it. Turning over fully, he felt Fuuma stir beside him and he pursed his lips, annoyed for waking him. On the nightstand, his cell phone had vibrated itself close to the edge and with every new ring, it inched closer to toppling onto the floor. Kamui grasped it, propping himself up on one elbow when he recognized the number. Only a handful of people deserved to be answered at three o'clock in the morning, and one was currently snaking an arm around his waist. He rested his own hand over Fuuma's and opened his phone. "What's wrong?"

"Kamui-san!!" Yuzuriha's voice pitched higher with panic. "I'm sorry to call you but Kusanagi is in Kagoshima and Arashi-san's not coming back until morning and the baby's sick and I don't know what to do except go to a hospital but I'm not sure if it's that serious and I don't know where one is and I am _so_ sorry about waking you up but please help!"

One long, slow blink later, Kamui's sleep-fogged brain managed to separate most of the words and translate. Mariko sick. Yuzuriha panicking. "Does she have a fever?"

A series of little coughs followed Yuzuriha's pause, then a clatter as she set the phone on a table. "No, she's just a little warm," she answered, finally. "But she keeps coughing and crying and Arashi-san's going to kill me if I got the baby sick!"

Kamui sighed and rubbed one of his eyes with the heel of his hand, already trying to remember where on the floor his clothes had wound up. "I can be over in about ten minutes--" the arm around his waist tightened as Fuuma pulled him back against his chest with a muffled grunt, effectively conveying his opinion of that idea. "Or... um, can you catch a cab over here?" Fuuma's breath ghosted warm over his shoulder and Kamui kind of started to hate that option as well.

"I can do that," she replied, voice returning to her normal pitch. "Thank you so much, Kamui-san. I'll see you in a little bit!"

His cell phone dropped back on the nightstand with a little more force than strictly necessary; he rolled over and draped an arm over Fuuma's hip. "Sorry."

"Mph," came the reply, and Kamui felt a half-kiss press against his temple. "You need me?"

Kamui closed his eyes and grinned. "I should try to guilt trip you into getting up with me," he murmured, tucking his head under Fuuma's chin. "But I'll be nice."

The chuckle rolled under his ear and the grin softened into more of a smile. "Brat."

"Old, old news."

To his credit, Kamui had managed to get out of bed and dressed before Yuzuriha rang the doorbell, though not by much. He continued to finger comb his hair as he opened the door, holding it open as the child and bag-laden girl rushed in from the chill of the early morning. He stifled a yawn as he locked the door and stepped up into the apartment beside her. Yuzuriha unwrapped the layers protecting Mariko from the weather and the baby did seem a little flushed. Her big brown eyes turned toward him and she smiled hugely, showing her handful of tiny teeth. Chubby fingers reached toward him and Mariko immediately launched into excited babble. Kamui smiled back and lifted her out of Yuzuriha's arms, holding her very carefully on his hip. "She remembers you," Yuzuriha said with a smile. She looked harried and exhausted.

Kamui made a few inquisitive noises in reply to the baby's noises, then gestured for the former Seal to sit on the couch. Like him, her attention was drawn to the windows overlooking the scattered night lights of the city. He bounced the Mariko a little then startled a bit when she started coughing. Yuzuriha looked up at them with a pained expression, and not knowing what else to do, Kamui rubbed the baby's back. "Did she just get sick tonight?"

Yuzuriha nodded as the coughs subsided. "She didn't want to eat and then she fell asleep and woke up all fussy..." the girl looked up suddenly as Inuki passed through the front door, tail wagging lazily. She seemed to relax when the dog curled up at her feet. Mariko cooed and waved at the spirit, reaching to try and pet him. "But since she slept so long, she's been wide awake since midnight." Yuzuriha placed a hand over her mouth to cover a huge yawn. "Where's Fuuma-san?"

Crouching down to the floor, Kamui carefully set Mariko on the floor beside Inuki. "Asleep," he replied, tilting his head toward the bedroom.

"I'm sorry for bothering you so late."

He shook his head. "Don't worry about it. There's a futon on the floor in the bedroom, you should get some sleep. Arashi knows you're here, right?"

"I left her a note." Yuzuriha rubbed her eyes. "Are you sure it's okay?"

Kamui smiled. "I'm sure."

Mariko started to cough, her little body jerking with the force. Scrunching her face up, she started to cry. Cursing under his breath, Kamui picked her up and rubbed her back, making shushing noises; if anything, the cries became louder. Thinking about Fuuma in the other room, Kamui shushed louder, glancing desperately at Yuzuriha, who looked as if she was trying not to laugh. "If you walk around with her, she usually quiets down."

Obediently, he began to pace the length of the room, glancing anxiously at the baby every few steps. The first lap had no effect, but as he continued to walk and murmur to her, Mariko calmed down. Relieved, Kamui stopped at the edge of the couch. A moment later, the soft wail started again. Quickly, he resumed walking. Yuzuriha gave him a small, sympathetic smile and Kamui sighed. "Go ahead, I'll stay up with her."

The girl gave Kamui a quick rundown of the bag's contents, including a bottle, diapers and baby powder as Inuki took up position by the front door. She made her way to the bedroom swiftly after that, as if afraid Kamui would change his mind.

A year ago, he might have. But despite the unpleasant prospect of walking around the apartment until Arashi showed up, Kamui didn't regret volunteering. Before Mariko, he'd never, ever held a baby. Arashi had nearly laughed herself to tears at how gingerly he had treated the baby the first time she'd offered to let him hold her. He could lift a car and fight with a sword as if he had been born with it in his hand, but he had been terrified that he would drop, bobble or otherwise break Arashi's daughter. Children were a total mystery to him. He sincerely hoped Mariko didn't need to have her diaper changed before Arashi came; he hadn't thought to ask Yuzuriha how to do it.

Passing the windows, watching the lights lining the almost-rebuilt Rainbow Bridge, now dubbed the Millennium Memorial Bridge -- though more popularly known as the Millennium Rainbow-- Kamui glanced down at the softly sleeping baby and rested his cheek against the top of her head. A month after she'd been born, Kamui had visited her and Arashi at the former priestess' home. The moment she had set eyes on him, Mariko had erupted into noises, little coos and squeals and smiles, any sound she could make in greeting. She'd surprised both Arashi and Kamui, having never acted that way before. Arashi mused that, somehow, the baby sensed what he was and recognized it; they both felt potential in the child, but any scion of two Dragons would naturally have abilities of her own.

That connection that transcended Sorata's death and Arashi's own loss of power twisted Kamui's insides with a powerful feeling he couldn't define. The only thing that compared was what Kamui himself shared with Fuuma, and even then it wasn't exactly the same. Over the past year he watched as Yuzuriha's relationship with Kusanagi deepened and wondered if their children would have that same ability.

Mariko stirred, coughing a little, and Kamui resumed walking, murmuring to her and every so often humming a half-remembered lullaby.

A hand touched Kamui's back and he started, looking up sharply and feeling a strange sort of vertigo. Fuuma looked down at him, smiling faintly. Outside, the sky had lightened, turning the wisps of clouds pink and orange. "Wha...?"

He let the other guide him to lean against the couch. On his shoulder, a pink-cheeked Mariko slept peacefully, and remained that way even after he stopped. Fuuma skimmed her feather-light hair with the back of one finger. "You fell asleep while walking. I'm surprised you didn't drop her."

Kamui blinked. "Oh." His mind still felt sort of fuzzy. "Me too. What time is it?"

"Almost seven." Fuuma tilted his head to the side, appearing thoughtful. "She looks good on you," he said, his grin showing teeth. "Pity you can't get one of your own."

He wasn't so hazy that the comment didn't make him twitch. "This baby is the only thing that's keeping me from strangling you, Monou..." As amazing as Mariko was, the idea of raising a child of his own, ever, left a very sour taste in his mouth. His sentiment must have shown in his face, because Fuuma chuckled and stepped a little closer. Kamui tilted his head back and grudgingly let Fuuma kiss him, letting his eyes slide closed as his lips parted.

The very girlish squeal that interrupted the kiss nearly made him choke. Yuzuriha pressed her fingers to her mouth, looking extremely disappointed she had ruined the show. "Oh, sorry, Kamui-san... Fuuma-san..." she giggled, her face as red as Kamui felt his was. "I, um... um... Arashi-san called me. She's almost here." She watched them both for a moment, as if waiting to see if they would pick up before they left off, and then scurried over to them. "Is she still asleep?" She murmured, attempting to focus their attention on something else.

"Yes," Fuuma answered for Kamui, his voice somewhat strangled. His lips twitched as he stepped back so Yuzuriha could inspect their charge, and Kamui saw him cover his mouth and laugh very, very quietly. The younger teen snorted and shook his head.

Yuzuriha glanced between the two young men and her good humor seemed restored at seeing the exchange, taking away a meaning she declined to explain. She beamed at Kamui. "When did she go to sleep for good?"

Kamui coughed, shifting the baby very carefully in order to rub the back of his neck. "I'm not sure. A little while ago, I think."

A knock on the door saved him from having to elaborate, and Fuuma moved to let Arashi in. She stepped inside with a short bow and slipped off her shoes before coming toward them. Yuzuriha moved hurriedly to gather up the bag of baby items. Arashi smiled at Kamui, peering down to look at Mariko's face. "I think you were right, Yuzuriha-san," she said softly. "She just has a cold." Straightening, she bowed to Kamui, lower than she had to Fuuma. "Thank you, Kamui-san, for staying up with her."

Kamui shook his head and lifted Mariko so Arashi could take her; his arms ached as he straightened them, sore from hours of holding still. He moved his wrists in some circles, then touched the baby's head. She stirred and turned her head, looking up into a familiar face and smiling. Arashi kissed her daughter's forehead, then her nose, and smiled as Mariko giggled. Hanging back, Kamui let the two women get the baby bundled up to go and thought Sorata would have been very proud of his "'nee-chan" if he could see her. The baby was, of course, beautiful and would be very powerful... but the affection in Arashi's expression when she looked at her would have been what Sorata praised incessantly.

He followed them to the door, waving as they left. He stayed in the open doorway, watching until they disappeared into the elevator. Locking the door, he padded back into the apartment, rubbing his upper arms absently, working out the soreness.

"You okay?"

Kamui looked over his shoulder at Fuuma, who leaned against the wall and who had probably been watching him for several minutes. The younger of the two nodded slowly, his eyes drawn to the Millennium Rainbow. "Yeah... just... sometimes I need a reminder that it's really over."

"We're already obsolete," his Gemini replied softly, not looking at Kamui when he looked over. "People are moving on. Kishuu's a mother now, not a Seal, not a priestess. Shiyuu and Nekoi are as good as married."

Kamui saw the train of thought his friend had boarded, and continued along to that question Segawa had asked at graduation. He moved to Fuuma's side and slid his hand into the larger one, twining their fingers together. "I'm alright with that," he replied after a moment.

Fuuma's hand tightened around his and the older youth seemed content to let the conversation end there. At some point, Kamui fell asleep on his feet, again, leaning against his friend and lover and other half's side, amid the slowly warming light of the sunrise.


	7. Side Story One

**Milestones**

**Side Story #1: Fuuma & Kamui**

_(Set at the end of X18)_

Shattered concrete and broken glass pressed into Kamui's back as he struggled to catch his breath and swallow the overwhelming sense of failure that kept threatening to rise. He couldn't believe everything was going to end so ignominiously, with him flat on his back, pinned to the ground with a sword nearly as tall as he. One plunged into his heart by his best friend, who would probably smile after he'd choked up his last breath. Maybe he and Subaru would go out for ramen as the city crumbled around them.

He winced at the blatantly uncharitable nature of that thought, but the onmyouji's defection poured acid on an already festering wound. Half of him didn't even want to listen to what Subaru tried to tell him, no matter how much sense it made. What he wanted was not what he _really_ wanted. He couldn't fight, couldn't protect until his heart and mind were in synch.

The Shinken's blade rose up in the air, glinting coldly in the murky light as Fuuma held his arms high above his head.

_"There is another wish."_

_"I will bring Fuuma back even if I have to hurt him."_

_"Why is it when we want something, we lose sight of the most important thing?"_

"I..."

Kamui's eyes widened and he choked on his breath; unthinking, he found the strength to roll over, out of the sword's path as it plummeted down and buried itself in the ground. He scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping over his own sword's hilt as he moved backward, mind reeling.

Fuuma settled one hand on top of his Shinken, not pulling it back out. Instead, he watched Kamui intently, searching for something only he knew as the younger teen continued to clumsily put distance between them. For his own part, Kamui's movements proceeded as if on automatic, thoughts running up against each other like psychotic bumper cars, all moving around a central notion that scared the shit out of him.

But... when he let himself think about it, it felt _right_. The puzzle pieces rearranged themselves as he watched, making a stark, clear picture. "I want..."

A bizarre, almost hungry light appeared in Fuuma's eyes, startling Kamui enough for him to bolt, jumping up into the Tower's rafters, high above the city. Near the summit, he finally stopped. He leaned against a girder, catching his breath as he looked down at the flooded streets and rubble. Smoke pillars wafted up from the newly destroyed buildings, and Kamui wondered where the others were. Not content to let the Kamui have all the fun, the remaining Dragons of Earth had scattered the Seals, bringing together the last threads that would make up the Final Battle. An explosion sent fire shooting into the sky somewhere off to his right; maybe that was Karen, but he couldn't be sure. Surely she and Aoki-san had found one another and if they had, things would be all right. Without tell-tale elemental magic, there was no telling where Yuzuriha might be. Kamui knew where Sorata had gone, and wished he hadn't given his blessing, no matter how important Arashi was. He could use one of the Kansai monk's jokes right about now.

"You're too good at leaving me hanging, _Kamui_."

Shuddering, the smaller of the two Gemini turned, one hand still gripping the garish orange girder until the knuckles turned white. The wind whipped around them, but Fuuma didn't seem to be affected. He walked slowly along the support beam, heading for him, with that same predatory look. Expectant, waiting to tear him to pieces once he got the answer.

Which, naturally, was why Kamui was so afraid to tell him.

He swallowed and let go of the girder, stepping out onto the narrow beam. His hands fidgeted at his sides; he'd left his Shinken down on the ground, giving him nothing to hold onto now. "Fuuma, I want..."

_"Will you hold onto your wish, even if people around you don't understand?"_

_"You have the power to change Fate, Kamui."_

"I want you to have a choice."

The intensity in his old friend's eyes didn't lessen; if anything, it deepened, but the rest of his expression softened.

"I want you to choose how this ends." Kamui's voice sounded too quiet in his own ears, but he had no doubt Fuuma heard. A strange sort of elation and despair fought to the surface, and he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "You pick."

_I acknowledge you_.

_I acknowledge the unfairness._ Kamui took a step forward, putting himself within Fuuma's reach. _I will offer the only thing I can to correct it._

Despite the conviction he had that this _was_, honestly and truly, what he wanted, Kamui couldn't keep himself from closing his eyes. Whatever happened, it was out of his hands. He just hoped the outcome didn't hurt too badly.

Rough, cool and dry fingers brushed his cheek, and Kamui pulled in a breath; kindness never came without pain following. He braced himself, tension coiling tight in his shoulders and back, waiting for the blow that would knock him off the Tower and bring an end to a year's... six year's worth of unhappiness and lost possibilities. He waited a moment, then two...

When he opened his eyes, Fuuma had gone.

--+--

New Year's morning dawned clear and cold; the sun sparkled on the water, making the world below seem to have been made of light and nothing else. Kamui watched the sunrise from the top of Tokyo Tower, alone and blue-lipped, though he had stopped feeling the winter air hours ago. The brightness hurt his eyes, but he could not look away; he didn't want to.

His wish had been enough.

His faith had been enough.

In the midst of his victory, he felt empty.

After the sun had risen fully, beginning the long trek across the sky -- notable for the fact that it was business as usual -- Kamui unfolded stiff, numb limbs and began his own slow trip back to CLAMP Campus. The Chairman was waiting for him with a relieved smile and blue eyes full of questions, though he asked none of them before whisking the teen off to the hospital. Wounds were washed and dressed and someone ordered him to strip down to his underwear before they wrapped him in a silvery blanket. Doctors and nurses alternately chided him for courting hypothermia, and expressed relief that his most serious injury was a few frostbitten fingers and toes.

And everyone wanted to ask if he'd killed Fuuma, but no one did.

The remainder of the New Year's holiday drifted by in a blur, spent mostly by Yuzuriha and Arashi's bedsides as he was gradually caught up on the fates of his friends. The emptiness provided a buffer for the grief, for the most part, though Keiichi had caught him curled up on an oh-so-rare empty hospital bed, shivering uncontrollably. Someone had seen fit to clue him in, probably Nokoru, and the blond had just sat beside him and talked about his childhood. Kamui loved him a little, after that.

A week following that first morning, Kamui moved into his new room in the dormitory. Forbidden to return to school until at least February, he passed the time by packing up Sorata's belongings, and anything Aoki-san, Karen and Subaru had left behind at the mansion. He left Sorata's boxes unsealed, in case Arashi wanted to look through them before they were sent off to Kouya. Once the things were all packed, Kamui passed his time walking through the city. Despite the boredom and idleness, time passed rather quickly.

As he returned to campus one evening, he found Fuuma waiting at the gate.

"Hey," he said, leaning against the stone pillar with his hands in his pockets.

After a moment, Kamui bit his lip and nodded. "Hey."

"How many do you have left?"

The ground before his feet had never looked so interesting. "Three, including me." He paused, then awkwardly managed: "You?"

"One and a half." When Kamui looked up, Fuuma shrugged. "The SDF guy's heart was never really in it."

"Oh." Kamui didn't think to mention he had no idea who Fuuma was talking about.

They spent a handful of minutes in silence, sizing each other up. In the fading, already-weak winter light, Kamui thought Fuuma looked exactly the same as before, yet almost a complete stranger.

Fuuma dug into his pocket, finally, and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "Here," he said, holding it out. Kamui hesitated and hated himself for it before he reached out took the paper. To his credit, Fuuma didn't say anything. He just put his hand back in his pocked and gestured with his chin. "Come by some time."

Kamui opened the paper and read the address written down in excellent handwriting. He didn't recognize the neighborhood, but that didn't mean he couldn't find it. He glanced up at Fuuma, then back down at the paper, and then slowly met the other's gaze. "I'd like that."


	8. Side Story Two

**Milestones**

**Side Story #2: Something Like a Happy Hour**

From across the couch, Keiichi finished off the last of his Asahi SuperDry and grinned at his companions, especially the shorter one sitting in the middle. The current question posed to Kamui had brought out an incredible blush, and Keiichi looked forward to seeing if the answer would embarrass him any further. Kamui made a "pfft" noise, then rolled his eyes and shook his head, muttering about how "ridiculous" their game was, but Keiichi didn't doubt for a second that he would answer, and would tell the truth. From the amused look in Monou's eyes, Keiichi guessed they assumed the same.

"I dunno why I said 'yes' to this," Kamui groused, turning his beer can around in his hands. The slight slur in his voice made Keiichi snicker. Keiichi and Kamui had pretty well kept pace with each other on rounds, but his former roommate was clearly more affected by it. Keiichi chalked it up to Kamui's height disadvantage. "Okay, fiiiiiiiiiiiiine. I never got 'the talk' from my mom, but I walked in on her an' Aunt Saya once when they were..." Kamui coughed and his whole face turned red. "Mom said she had a muscle cramp an' Aunt Saya was helping."

"You never told me about that," Monou said, one eyebrow raised.

Kamui covered his face with one hand. "I believed her, and then I repressed it."

"You know, I can see that."

"'Aunt Saya'?" Keiichi interrupted, slightly confused. He had learned bits and pieces about Kamui in the past few years, but it all more or less covered why his friend was able to leap tall buildings in a single bound and had scars everywhere.

Kamui's hand stayed put while he jerked his other thumb toward Monou. "His mother. Called her 'aunt' 'cause our moms were so close."

Keiichi grinned. "Apparently." He looked between the two and grabbed another can of beer. "It seems to run in the family."

Monou chuckled and Kamui groaned. "Oh god, and we don't even know about Kotori..."

Monou swung his beer can gently from his fingertips, looking thoughtful. Keiichi had the impression that he was far more sober than either of the younger two. "I did."

Keiichi took a long sip and tilted his head to one side. "Oh?" Thankfully, this was not a name he had to struggle to place. Somehow it seemed wrong to discuss the dead as the three of them were, especially since under normal circumstances both Kamui and Monou remained annoyingly tight-lipped about themselves. Keiichi might have been tempted to feel slighted, as if they -- or more that Kamui -- didn't trust him. But knowing what he did know, he chose to feel grateful instead, for what he _had_ been told.

A few years ago, when his crush on his former classmate had been in full swing, he could have been very hurt by it. And, if he was honest with himself, he would have been. But Keiichi had always been the type to accept what life brought and find the good in it. And while he still had an urge to sit a little closer to Kamui than was friendly, or let his hand linger on his shoulder a second past "manly hug", he knew he had no chance to beat, let alone match, the ties that Monou could claim.

So, instead, he befriended the older teen and occasionally had rebellious ideas involving the beer vending machine on the corner, five thousand yen, and a game of "let's get hammered and ask personal questions, and give Shirou all the embarrassing ones". All in all, it wasn't a bad arrangement.

Monou took another sip of beer. "Yeah, she took after Dad." He grinned at Kamui, who snorted and rolled his eyes.

Keiichi laughed. "Well, statistically, it's pretty much a given," he said. "I mean, if Shirou had a brother or a sister, I wouldn't think they'd both be gay."

Something in what he said made Monou laugh hard enough to choke on his beer. Kamui, on the other hand, looked affronted. ""M not gay."

"Yes, you are."

Kamui shook his head emphatically, and appeared somewhat dizzy after he stopped. "'M not, I swear."

Keiichi snickered into his beer. "Shirou, I've known you for how long? I've never seen you look twice at a girl."

Blushing now, in addition to being righteously indignant, Kamui bristled. "S'not like there's much to look at an' how'd you know they're up to my standards?"

"I didn't know you had those." Keiichi scrambled to duck as an empty beer can flew toward his head.

"I do _so_ have them an' I'm not jus' gonna drool over any girl who comes in sight an'--"

The tirade was cut off when Monou put a hand over his mouth, having recovered from the fit of laughter enough to sit up straight. Monou wrapped his free hand around Kamui's waist. "He isn't, actually."

A blond eyebrow arched up. "... if you say it, I almost believe it."

Kamui glanced over at Monou with a sort of half-pained, 'why are you encouraging him' look on his face. Monou gave him a light kiss on the forehead and looked back up at Keiichi. "Seriously. He was in love with my sister for the longest time."

"_FUU_MA!"

Monou's grin made his eyes scrunch up. "You'd have made such a cute bride."

Kamui sputtered in outrage, a tic forming at the corner of his eye. "You'd better not go to sleep tonight, jackass!"

Keiichi blinked a few times, digesting that new bit of information. He took a long draw from his beer, still watching the two of them and wondering what exactly was below the surface of the exchange, since there clearly was some story he hadn't been told. But, still, it did offer some insights.

"Well," he began. "That makes things simpler, then." Keiichi grinned at Kamui. "You're Monou-sexual."

They both stared at him, and after a moment even Kamui laughed.

--+--

If asked how many beers he'd had, Kamui would only be able to guess somewhere between more than four and less than ten. The rapidly shrinking, coherent part of his brain was amazed he hadn't passed out yet. Like Keiichi had. Kamui chalked it up to messianic stamina, though it was a shame that didn't translate into a ridiculously high alcohol tolerance. He laughed at himself as he flopped onto the bed, rolling over to sprawl on his back with a slight smile on his face.

Fuuma walked around to his side of the bed with a bemused look. "What's so funny?"

"You," Kamui replied snottily, sticking his tongue out. Fuuma snorted.

"You planning on using that?"

"Maybe," Kamui replied, though as his tongue was still sticking out, it sounded more like "maaaayeeee". He let out a pleased little sound as Fuuma humored him and bent down, settling a hand on either side of his head as he leaned in for a kiss. The angle was a bit awkward, but the kiss still managed to be warm and long enough for Kamui to be breathless by the end. He looked up at his friend with a smile and half-closed eyes, starting to let the weight of the alcohol in his system drag him toward sleep.

"You know I love you, right?" He asked softly, the beer still playing fast and loose with his better judgment. The now-much-smaller coherent part of his brain listened to him in horror at being so open, even with Fuuma.

When Fuuma didn't answer right away, Kamui frowned and negotiated heavy limbs into letting him sit up. "Fuuma?"

Fuuma's hand moved to ruffle his hair, making Kamui duck his head. "You talk a lot when you're drunk."

Kamui turned his head so his cheek wound up pressed into Fuuma's palm, and he closed his eyes. "So?" he challenged tiredly. "Drinking doesn' make it less true."

"You know you had five cans of that stuff, right?"

The sound Kamui made could've been one of annoyance. Or it could have been out of fear. He lifted his head and met Fuuma's eyes, and saw a carefully guarded expression, and knew Fuuma could see how pained his own was. "Why can't you just answer me?"

"Kamui--"

When Fuuma tried to back up, Kamui lost his patience. He reached out and cupped the back of Fuuma's head in both hands, bringing their faces close and keeping them there. "I'll forgive you for nursing one beer _all night_ while Segawa and I made asses of ourselves," he said fiercely, his voice low and rapidly sounding more and more sober. "But I'm not going to forgive you for still being jealous of your sister after everything that's happened, and if I have to keep you right here until you answer my question, I will. And if you lie to me just to shut me up, you'll be lucky if I don't kill you."

A muscle in Fuuma's jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth, his eyes narrowed as he searched Kamui's face. After a handful of moments, Fuuma closed his eyes and sighed with a look of resignation, then rested his forehead against Kamui's.

"I know."

Kamui was silent for another moment, then he wrapped his arms around Fuuma's shoulders and held him tightly. "Good."


	9. Special Side Story

**Milestones**

**Special Side Story: Re-introduction**

_(set after Side Story #1, and before "Wedding Day")_

"Fuck, not again."

The cloudy, rain-laden midwinter sky offered no aid to the young man whose eyes raised toward it in a plea for patience. Or, at least, better directions than he had. Given the half-demolished state of the city, making and remaking maps was not the highest priority. Thus, Kamui's convenience store map kept taking him down streets which no longer existed, blocked by rubble and/or reconstruction crews. Only two months into the new millennium, public transportation ran only in the outer wards, and taxis were few and far between.

He passed the remains of Tokyo Station, heading back down toward Ginza, through, though he could have sworn he'd made his way through there already. He would have asked if the streets were not mostly deserted, or if those people he _did_ see had body language that told him loud and clear not to approach. Nearly a year's worth of upheaval in their lives kept them afraid, even though the danger had finally passed. He supposed they had a right to be. The Seals and Angels had been preoccupied with kekkai and shinken, earth and humanity; humanity faced the much more immediate problems of looters, edgy police and homelessness. As Kamui walked past an apartment building littered with "NO LOITERING" signs, he wondered how long it would take the average person to recover.

If it were half as long as it was taking him, it would be too long.

Moving him and the others to the dorms had been a wise decision on the Chairman's part; the Seals' area of the mansion had been large with four to seven people living there. Now down to a static three, the place felt overwhelming and empty. A small room shared with Segawa kept Kamui from feeling lonely most of the time. But he still woke some days wondering why Sorata wasn't roaming the halls banging on a pot to call them to breakfast.

He hadn't expected to miss the monk as much as he did. Like a lot of times in his life, he denied the possibility of certain things coming to pass. Even after Kotori, and then again after seeing Subaru holding the Sakurazukamori's body, Kamui refused to consider anyone else dying. His new-found friends in the Seals, Fuuma, even the members of the opposition. Somehow, he would find another way.

The empty feeling that still gnawed in his stomach came from the feeling that he should have been able to do more. Of course, he kept those thoughts to himself; the others would have probably called him selfish or silly, to think he could have done more than ensure the continued existence of mankind. Because the big picture was easier to think about.

Kamui looked at the address on the now-very-creased piece of paper, then glanced back up at the area around him. The map said it was near-ish to Shimbashi station, too close to Roppongi and Shiba Park for his liking. However, he supposed people would find the area around Tokyo Tower to be somewhat more habitable than other parts of the city.

As the ruins of Ginza's high-quality shops and restaurants began to fade into more residential buildings, Kamui noticed the condition of the sidewalks and streets beginning to improve. Turning a corner, he stepped around a chunk of concrete buried in the middle of the sidewalk and onto a narrower street. He checked numbers until he found the correct building, and glanced up to get a glimpse of the twentieth floor. The elevator took its time coming, and while he waited, Kamui began to fidget with the paper with the address on it and gnaw on his bottom lip. For all that the descent seemed slow, the trip up flew by, and he was standing in front of the apartment at the end of the hall much more quickly than he was ready for. He folded the address paper and unfolded and refolded it and then finally put it in his pocket before it tore. He lifted his knuckles to knock and then paused, wondering if it was really necessary, given who they were.

He knocked anyway and heard it rattle through the metal door and down the hallway. A very final-sounding sound.

There was no way to tell if Fuuma was coming to the door; the former Angel's presence permeated the apartment and a bit out beyond it. It was like trying to gauge the movement of a single bead of water in a puddle. When the lock turned, Kamui startled badly enough to take several retreating steps. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets so he could pretend they weren't shaking. The balcony at his left offered a tempting escape; no need to push himself if he wasn't ready. His Gemini would understand.

Wouldn't he?

What kept Kamui standing in front of the door as it opened was that he couldn't be sure of the answer to his question. He didn't really know Fuuma anymore; hadn't really known him since he'd returned from Okinawa. A phantom pain pulsed through his hands and he tried not to appear as apprehensive as he felt. Even though his hands were still buried in his pockets.

Fuuma held the door open as he leaned on the doorjamb and looked him over. "Hi," he finally said, his expression softening, eyes no longer as intense. Kamui let out the breath he'd been holding.

"Ah... hi."

The other teen stepped back into the foyer, still propping the door open. Kamui hesitated and turned a little sideways, facing Fuuma as he stepped past him. "Took me a little while to find it, but here I am," he said, forcing his tone to sound light. He even managed a self-depreciating smile as he backed further into the foyer, stopping to slip off his shoes.

"Bad directions?" Fuuma asked as he let the door swing shut. Kamui succeeded in not watching it close. Instead, he nodded at Fuuma's question.

"I got turned around a few times, but I figured it out." Kamui saw Fuuma watching his every movement, and felt a bizarre sort of relief; there was a real possibility that Fuuma couldn't help but take in everything, driven to it by the past in the same way Kamui couldn't help wondering not if, but _when_ he would be pressed up against a wall with Fuuma's hand around his throat. His stomach performed an uneasy roll at the thought.

But then, Fuuma smiled a little and walked into the apartment. "Happened to me, too, in the beginning."

Kamui fell into step behind him after a moment, cautiously pulling his hands out of his pockets, somehow feeling steadier than he had outside. "How long have you lived here?"

Fuuma's shoulders shrugged. "Six months or so."

Stopping at the couch, Kamui ran a hand along the still-pristine fabric and couldn't shake the feeling that the answer was more technical than truth. Still, his old friend had been here since before that day. Almost wistfully, Kamui looked around to try and guage what Fuuma had been like without the show; the man behind the curtain, as it were. "Ah. It's... it's nice."

Fuuma laughed, and Kamui shuddered. Then he cringed, balling his hand in the couch fabric. Fuuma didn't appear to notice. Instead, he gestured to the back of the living area, drawing the younger teen's attention to the windows. "I picked it for the view."

The nervousness grudgingly gave way to awe as he took in the nearly panoramic view of the bay and what remained of the Chuou skyline. "I can see why..." Kamui murmured, stepping closer to the window, stopping just out of arm's reach of the glass. Just beyond the edge of the window pane, Tokyo Bay churned, pushing back against the hastily reconstructed levees that had driven it out of the streets. White foam capped the waves as they broke on the cement and reformed, moving back out to safer waters. There weren't any boats out on the bay, and probably wouldn't be until someone decided what to do with the ugly, twisted mess that had been Rainbow Bridge. As much as Kamui wanted to look away, he stared, gaze roving over the broken girders and the handful of cables that stirred whenever the wind applied the right amount of force.

If only the kekkai's collapse had taken the whole thing down.

Kamui finally had to turn away and face the mostly dark apartment, to stop from taking the next, logical thought toward the one Seal whose fate he hadn't been able to account for. When he looked up, he met Fuuma's eyes and saw a thoughtful expression. As if the other had decided to study him and his reaction to the view. Kamui frowned, wondering how Fuuma could be so comfortable with them being in the same room together. Something about the situation wasn't fair. The battle had ended, he had won... and yet, the two of them remained the same.

"I have to tell you something," Kamui blurted out, surprising himself. Fuuma blinked at the outburst. "No offense or anything, but... but you're a complete asshole."

The other just looked at him, the expression of careful study melting into eyebrows crawling up a smooth forehead.

Kamui glanced down at his hands as they fidgeted and shrugged. "Just saying." Silence continued to meet his words, and eventually, he had to look back up, craving feedback, no matter what the kind.

Fuuma's expression could have been pinched, save for the soft smile that hovered on his lips. He just spread his hands out at his sides, and said, "I know."

Swallowing against a painful lump in his throat, Kamui stood very, very still, holding back from reaching out to the other. "I wish I could have saved the others," he whispered, vision blurring as he saw his Gemini look up.

"But you couldn't." Not a recrimination. Not even that blank, icy-cold voice he had spent months associating with his old friend.

Just simple fact, spoken by someone who could, finally, understand.

"I'm... glad you came, today."

Kamui laughed, though it came out weaker than he'd hoped it would. "So am I."

* * *

_This is a "special" side story because it was written as a present for a friend. With her permission, I'm posting it with the rest of the stories._


End file.
